


our battles

by military_bluebells



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Bar fights, Blood, Flashbacks, M/M, Protective Ray, Warning: Anti-Semitic comments, don't worry the guy gets punched for it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:35:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24288250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/military_bluebells/pseuds/military_bluebells
Summary: He sighed and spit the blood out of his mouth into the sink. When he stood back up, Brad was waiting in the mirror's reflection. Ray didn’t jump, mostly because he’d been trained not to.“I…am totally fine.” He said, somewhat nasally. Fuckerhadto hit the nose.Brad just stared back, and said dryly, “Oh, is that why you’re bleeding from every orifice in your face?”
Relationships: Brad Colbert/Ray Person
Comments: 3
Kudos: 70





	our battles

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Anti-Semitism 
> 
> Also, disclaimer, the Anti-Semitic comments written in this fic ARE NOT my views.

Ray pushed the front door open with a soft curse. Pressing a hand to his ribs, he closed it behind him and made his way across the living room to the hallway. He winced as the bathroom light went straight through his head, colours bursting in front of his eyes until everything was muddled, the back of his head spasming and aching. 

He blinked furiously until he could see his reflection in the mirror and winced again. His nose was still dripping blood like a broken tap and the cut on his lip wasn’t much better, leaking sluggishly. He rubbed below his eyebrow before any blood from his forehead could drip into his eyes. 

_The guy’s fist caught him in the face when some dickhead pushed him from behind. He staggered back, copper taste blooming on his tongue._

He sighed and spit the blood out of his mouth into the sink. When he stood back up, Brad was waiting in the mirror's reflection. Ray didn’t jump, mostly because he’d been trained not to. 

“I…am totally fine.” He said, somewhat nasally. Fucker _had_ to hit the nose. 

Brad just stared back, and said dryly, “Oh, is that why you’re bleeding from every orifice in your face?” 

Ray sighed, “I’m not bleeding out of my eyes, so not every orifice. Technically.” 

He watched Brad’s jaw clench and kept his eyes on him as he looked out into the corridor. He waited, tonguing the split in his lip gingerly. Brad turned back, staring at him with more than a little contempt. 

_“What? Are you his bitch or something?” the guy said condescendingly. Ray clenched his fists._

Brad’s feet made little noise on the tiled floor. Ray moved aside as Brad stepped into his space to open the cabinet. 

“Sit on the toilet.” 

Ray obeyed, slumping onto the closed toilet seat and rubbing a hand through his hair. The back of his head throbbed when he brushed it, but there wasn’t a goose egg and he didn’t go dizzy, so he assumed he didn’t have like, a bleed on the brain or something. 

_His head smacked into a column - vision blacking out for a second - but he lashed his foot out hard, catching the guy in the shin. He tipped forward, low enough that Ray’s elbow hit him in the nose, breaking it easily._

Brad tore their first kit open and pulled out a couple of cotton swabs. His movements were short and rough, so Ray didn’t try and say anything. Instead he watched Brad’s long fingers fold the swabs and hold them on top of their iodine bottle, tipping it sharply. The orange-brown seeped through the swab but didn’t go far enough to stain Brad’s fingers. 

_Blood was quickly staining his knuckles and his shirt. Brad was going to be pissed: it was his shirt._

Brad’s hand gripped the back of his head and he winced, bastard had his fingers digging right into the aching spot, but by the look on Brad’s face he’d done it deliberately. 

“Hold fucking still.” He said. He was trying for unfeeling – ice cold – but Ray couldn’t buy it, not in the slight twist in his lips, not in the hardness in his eyes, not in the gentle-roughness of the hand holding him still and the hand dabbing the iodine-soaked swab along his eyebrow. Ray watched Brad’s eyes, which stayed firmly on his eyebrow, too focused to be natural. 

“It wasn’t my fault.” Ray said when Brad drew back to pick up a Band-Aid. Brad looked at him this time, stare hard. Ray met it, “the fucker wouldn’t stop spewing bullshit and since everyone else was content to be pussies, it fell to me to shut him up.” 

_“The fuck you saying, homes.” Ray said. The guy straightened. “I get that you lose a few brain cells every time you let a POG stuff his cock in your ass, but you must be very popular to lose that many.”_

“What you mean is Ray, you started it, and you’re going to get NJP’d for it.” Brad said icily, turning back to his cotton swabs. 

“Nah, there weren’t any NCO’s or officers, and if he reports it, he knows I’ll take him with me.” Ray said, spitting the last part. If the motherfucker even tried, Ray would pull every trick and favour to bring him down. He was petty like that. 

Brad’s hand was still cupping the back of his head as he pulled him forward to prod around his nose. It was broken but Walt had reset it after the fight. 

_Ray stared at nice bruise growing on Walt’s jaw, his lips even plumper with swelling._

_“You’re an idiot.” Walt said, cupping the back of his head, and pinching the top of Ray’s nose._

_“I didn’t ask you to get involved, I was handling it just fine.”_

_Walt glanced away and said softly, “You looked like you were gonna kill him, was punchin’ him enough.”_

_Ray rolled his eyes, “I’m not that much of an idiot.”_

Brad moved back and slipped his hands under Ray’s top. He paused, his hands pressed against Ray’s sides, and stared down at the tank. Ray looked down as well, remembering it was actually Brad’s, too long and straps so loose they almost slipped off his shoulders. It was now smeared of blood, beer and whatever was on a bar’s floor. 

“This is mine.” Brad said, pointedly. 

“Picked it up by accident, I’ll clean it for you.” 

Brad's fingers stroked Ray’s side – he couldn’t even mistake it for a twitch – and he stared for a second longer. Ray smirked: Brad liked it, the possessive fucker. Brad’s hand continued, rucking the tank up to his armpits. Ray hissed lowly as Brad's bear paws nudged his sore ribs. Brad rolled his eyes and moved Ray’s arm to hold the tank up. Ray made sure to breathe shallowly as he wrapped Ray’s ribs with some random gauze. 

With a little help, they got Ray’s tank over his head with minimal cursing, and Brad paused, cupping Ray’s jaw. Ray let him look, eyes moving like a mother hen’s over his face, returning to his lips every second or so. 

“If you’re going to kiss me homes, at least know it’s going to taste like blood.” 

“I’m not going to kiss you Ray, because I don’t want to contract whatever blood transmitted diseases you have, most of which probably come from all the farm animals you’ve had sex with.” 

Ray grinned, even as the split in his lip stretched and protested. That was the most words yet, and they were about Ray being diseased and fucking animals. Go figure. Brad stood and moved to the sink. Ray realised his fingertips were stained with bits of blood and excess iodine and he swallowed thickly, looking away. 

“So why did you start a fight, I thought you were out drinking with young Hasser.” 

Ray shrugged, “Some guy started mouthing off behind us, the usual shit, dumb officers, grooming standard, then he started talking smack about some of the other guys, fuck even about me. I shrugged it off though, the guy was obviously shitfaced.” Ray paused, rolling the words around his mouth, “Then he started talking shit about _you_.” 

_“Colbert’s just an intitled Rat, the only reason he’s a team leader is because he used other people’s work like all those Jews do.”_

_Ray stilled, putting his beer down slowly. Walt was looking at him, eyes telling him to calm down. Stay Frosty. Ray clenched his jaw and turned, throwing an arm over the back of his chair to stare at the guy._

Brad turned to him, stare a thousand different variation of what Ray knew he’d think. _Why didn’t you defend yourself first, what did he say about you, who is he?_ Ray met it with, _I don’t care, it doesn’t matter, I won’t tell you._

“Don’t fight my battles Ray.” Brad warned. _Don’t hurt yourself for me._

Ray kept his eyes on Brad even as he looked away to dry his hands. “That’d be no fun homes,” Ray quipped. _I would fight every battle whether you like it or not._

Different words, same argument. Sometimes, Ray didn’t think Brad understood that about him. Ray's known since he was a kid that loyalty ran in his veins like blood, just like his mum, his grandma. Brad’s never known loyalty like that he figured, loyalty that was earned and _never_ lost. 

Sometimes, Ray thought Brad did understand, when he let Ray have his six without question, when he trusted him to fix the radio, to know the codes, to be on his wavelength. 

Whether or not Ray needed his permission, was something they will always disagree on. 

_“That’s_ my _team leader.” Ray spat, getting up in the guy’s face. “The only one who gets to talk shit about him is me.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt Credit: https://corvidprompts.tumblr.com/post/186029197261/i-am-totally-fine-oh-is-that-why-youre
> 
> “I…am totally fine.”  
> “Oh, is that why you’re bleeding from every orifice in your face?”


End file.
